Resurrection

The male Yasraena had choked cleared his throat and said, "Matron Mother, the basin does not allow for the transmission of sounds. I humbly apologize."

Yasraena stared at the top of the male's head for a moment before turning back to the image.

The vision wavered too much for lip readers to be of much use. She would have to rely on observation to keep her apprised of Gromph's plans.

She eyed the sweating male wizard who leaned over the basin, maintaining the image. He would not be able to hold the image for much longer. She looked to Esvena.

"Rotate our mages so that this image is constant. It is imperative that we know what Gromph

Baenre is doing at all times."

Esvena nodded.

Yasraena was beginning to think that the temporary Xorlarrin withdrawal was part of some larger ploy by the archwizard. Perhaps he would time his own assault with that of the Xorlarrin,

hoping to sneak in under cover of the battle.

We've got you, Baenre, she thought, eyeing Gromph through the basin. With the Dyrr wizards'

scrying eye on him, the archmage would not be able to surprise them. If he came, they would be ready.

Yasraena took a deep, satisfied breath. She had asked the Spider Queen for an opportunity.

She had been given more time, and that was opportunity enough.

Conscious of his companions' eyes upon him, Pharaun pulled a swatch of bat fur from his piwafwi, positioned his fingers in a circle, and spoke a couplet.

An incorporeal, silvery orb took shape before him. With an exercise of his will, he saw through the ball as though it were his own eyes. At his mental command, the ball sped back through the chwidencha tunnel, up the vertical shaft, and through the wall of stone that Pharaun had created to cap the tunnel.

Through the eye, Pharaun saw the surface.

It was night. And raining. Spider carcasses and limbs dotted the landscape. The chwidencha bodies they had left behind lay torn in pieces. Pharaun saw no movement, no spiders. He ceased concentration on the orb, leaving it where it was, and returned his vision to his own eyes.

Quenthel stood near him, waiting. Danifae stood a few steps behind her, her expression veiled. Jeggred hulked over the battle-captive, staring at Pharaun with undisguised hunger.

"It is night, Mistress," Pharaun said to Quenthel. "And raining lightly. The Teeming appears to have abated."

Quenthel nodded as though she had expected nothing less.

"Then we go," she said. "Open the way."

Pharaun nodded. A simple spell would suffice to move them.

He visualized the surface and spoke a magical word that opened a dimensional portal between where they stood and the surface. A curtain of green energy formed in the air.

Pharaun reached out a hand for Quenthel, and her whip serpents reared up with a hiss. Even the snakes were more tense than usual. Pharaun's confrontation with Jeggred had thrown fuel on the fire of the priestesses' war of nerve. Pharaun reminded himself not to get caught in the conflagration when it inevitably blew.

"I must touch you if you are to use the portal," he said to Quenthel.

She nodded and quieted her serpents. He put his hand gently to her shoulder. As he did, he raised his eyebrows and looked a question at her.

The high priestess's expression showed that she took his meaning. They could leave Jeggred and Danifae behind, trapped underground.

Danifae shifted on her feet, as though she sensed the exchange.

Quenthel seemed to consider it before surreptitiously signing, All go.

Pharaun did not let his disappointment reach his face. He looked past Quenthel to Danifae and said, "Mistress Danifae?"

At her nod, he walked over and put his hand on hers, letting it linger for a moment on her smooth skin. Her flesh felt hot to the touch.

"Jeggred too," she said with a seductive, predatory smile.

Pharaun eyed the draegloth, who offered him a fanged smile and a cloud of foul breath.

"Of course," Pharaun said, wincing at the stink. He stepped to the draegloth, who slavered at his approach.

True to his promise to Jeggred, Pharaun had put a contingency spell on his person that would automatically cast another spell should the trigger be met. Pharaun had cast the spell such that if

Jeggred attacked him, even if Pharaun was incapacitated or otherwise made unable to speak or cast, the draegloth would instantly be attacked by a giant, crushing hand of force. The hand was bigger than the draegloth, stronger, and would squeeze him until his bones broke.

"Gently, mage," Danifae warned.

Pharaun said over his shoulder, "Jeggred already knows how gentle is my touch. I won't hurt him, Mistress Danifae."

"Of that I have no doubt," she answered.

In whispered Infernal, the tongue of demons, Jeggred said, "Only her command keeps me from ripping your head from your shoulders, contingency or not."

Pharaun understood the demonic tongue, as he did many other languages, and he answered in kind, "Should you even attempt to do so, your end will be rapid and painful. In fact, I wish you would."